


VS The Elimination

by Somedeepmystery



Category: Chuck (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 09:49:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somedeepmystery/pseuds/Somedeepmystery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A change in the timing of events at the end of Chuck vs The First Date leads to different results as Casey faces his orders head on and he, Chuck, Sarah, Ellie and the others are left to deal with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	VS The Elimination

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting on my hard drive for years now. That's just crazy. I looked it over and figured it can stand as it is.

The damn window was unlocked. It was always unlocked and Casey felt a pulse of anger at that fact. _Moron_. _Stupid, naïve moron._ He put one foot carefully on the floor, balancing his weight perfectly, in a way he didn’t even need to think about anymore. This was far from his first time. He crept to the door and peered out before stepping into the hall, gun ready. He could hear Bartowski in the kitchen, the clink of glasses and the shuffling of silverware. He stepped out to face the kitchen and his gaze immediately focused on Chuck through one of the open arches.  _Target_ \- not Bartowski, not Chuck – _target_ , he told himself as he continued forward, _keep your head in the game_.  His foot hit the one squeaky floor board in the hall and he cursed as he dipped back into the bathroom. _Damn it, Casey, focus_ , his thoughts chastised as he leaned into the wall to try and get the target back in sight without exposing himself. That was when Chuck started talking to himself.

“So, Sarah, how do you feel about Europe?” he said in a bit of an oily voice, and Casey rolled his eyes.  After a few more rambling lines the nerd pulled himself up short. “What am I saying? Just ask her. Ask her, straight out, like ‘Sarah would you like to take a trip through Europe with me?’”

Casey barely contained his grunt. No matter how many times they’d explained it to the kid, he just never got it through his thick head. Sarah didn’t get to pick where she went, or take vacations with an asset, former or otherwise.  As Chuck turned and bent over the back of the couch to shuffle pillows, Casey stepped down to the main floor. He had Chuck in his sights, he could take the kid now and he’d never feel it, never see it coming. Casey took careful aim at the back of Chuck’s head and exhaled quietly. Chuck turned, his eyes snapping to Casey and for a moment, everything went still.

~

Sarah cursed the traffic, the LA police department, pedestrians and anyone else she could think of as she quickly climbed out of her Porsche and locked the door. She was 45 minutes late. She’d hit every light, ended up trapped behind an accident on the freeway and was then forced to wend her way through the by streets , only to end up cut off by some kind of protest. She huffed and adjusted her purse on her shoulder as she hurried through the court yard. She was a little surprised Chuck hadn’t called her and she really hoped that whatever he had cooked for dinner wasn’t ruined.

She took another deep breath and forced herself to relax, ignoring the flutter of anticipation in her chest. She didn’t need to force a smile as the thought of spending the evening with Chuck - no covers, no lies - filled her mind. Reaching the familiar front door, she lifted her hand and knocked. There was no response. She knocked again, a little stronger, and after waiting much too long, there was still no Chuck gleefully throwing the door open to meet her. She darted her eyes quickly around the yard before moving toward the window to Chuck’s bedroom, and frowned to find it not only unlocked, but wide open.

She climbed in through the window with her usual grace and moved to the hall. “Chuck?” Maybe he was sick or hurt. She looked toward Ellie’s room and back, and then began moving in the direction of the living areas. “Chuck,” she called again. “I’m sorry I’m late. Are you okay?” She stopped at the kitchen. Two plated dinners sat on the counter, she checked them and they were still a little warm. On the table an open bottle of wine sat amongst the still burning candles. She hurried into the dining area and stared at those candles as she quickly pulled her phone from her purse. They had been burning for a long time. There was no way Chuck would go anywhere and leave the candles burning like that. She hurried back toward his room as she brought her phone to her ear and listened to it ring. “Hey, this is Chuck, leave a message!” his cheerful voice announced. Sarah growled and tried again. It went straight to voice mail this time and she forced herself to speak calmly as the beep sounded.

“Hey, Chuck, I’m at the apartment but you’re not here. Can you, um, give me a call? What’s going on?” She shoved the phone in her pocket and went straight for Casey’s apartment. She pounded on the door but there was no response. She knew he hadn’t pulled all the surveillance from Chuck’s apartment yet but he had probably turned it off and left, knowing they had a date. Not so much to give them privacy but more because he would want to spare himself. If she hadn’t felt so worried about Chuck, she might have smiled at the thought. She accessed his control panel and entered her code. The Directors had agreed that she be allowed access in case of emergency, but Casey had insisted she have her own code so he would know when she entered and how long she was there. She supposed if it had been her apartment, she would’ve done the same thing.

She closed the door and moved to the computers, punching in her access code followed quickly by the code to track Chuck’s GPS signal. She’d waited only a moment before it beeped a negative.

“No signal?” Sarah hissed. “What?” She angrily retyped it. Still negative. She cursed and pulled up surveillance but there was nothing. It cut off just as Ellie was harassing Chuck about his cooking. She frowned and paced in front of the desk three times. What to do? Chuck was no longer an asset, would they bother helping her find him? Yes, Chuck was still a citizen of this country and he had done a lot for said country since having the duty forced on him. The least they could do was make sure he was alright.

She jabbed the numbered code into the keyboard and waited what seemed like years before Beckman and Graham appeared on the screen. “Sir, Ma’am, Chuck is missing. His signal has stopped broadcasting. I think we should call in a team. Based on th –”

“That won’t be necessary, Agent Walker. Chuck Bartowski is no longer your concern,” Beckman said calmly. “Everything has been taken care of.”

“I – I’m sorry?”

“Naturally, I didn’t want you to have to deal with this part of the mission so soon after what happened in Hungary.” Graham looked at her meaningfully and then gave a quick side eyed glance at Beckman. Something inside Sarah flinched at the reference but she showed no outward sign.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Chuck is missing, asset or no we need to –“

“Bartowski isn’t missing, Agent Walker. There is nothing left to worry about.”

Something was very wrong. Sarah knew it. Somewhere her mind was screaming out the answer but she couldn’t hear it, she wouldn’t.

“We had Major Casey deal with the problem,” Graham said, as if he was the world’s most benevolent of bosses. Sarah felt everything inside of her go cold. She turned to stone, her hand gripping the desk in front of her.

“Deal with?”

“Of course,” Beckman said. Sarah watched as she punched several keys on the keyboard in front of her. Images began to appear on the screen.  Sarah couldn’t stop herself from looking. Her grip on the desk tightened. Her knuckles went white, and the small ridge of metal beneath the lip cut into the skin of her fingers.

Chuck lay on the ground in a pool of blood, the mop of hair on his forehead curling around a dark, round bullet wound. She didn’t flinch, somehow showed no outward reaction, but her blood was roaring through her veins. Her ears began to ring and all the air left the room at once, leaving her to suffocate.  She turned her cold blue eyes to her commanders, the fingers on her hand itching to pull her pistol and empty the clip into the screen. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what was needed.

“I see,” she said, her voice not as wooden as she felt. “Chuck is dead.”

“He died for his country,” Graham said. “He was a good man.” A tremor of pure rage shook Sarah’s body but she held it back.

“I guess this was an unnecessary call. I apologize for the disruption.”

“I expect you to be on a flight back to DC in the morning.”

“No.”

“Excuse me, agent?”

“I’m sorry. What I meant to say was: I don’t believe that is the best course of action. I am – was – Chuck’s girlfriend, I shouldn’t disappear right after he does. That would draw too many questions. I’ll stay through his funeral, and then announce that I just can’t stay here because of the memories.”

“There won’t be a funeral, Agent. I promise things are well in hand. Casey is the best at this. The body won’t be found.”

The tremor was in her legs now and she couldn’t suppress it. “I’m sorry again, but that is unwise. Eleanor Bartowski has already had her parents disappear and she has been Chuck’s mother, for all intents and purposes, for years. If he simply vanishes, she won’t let it go…” she had to grit her teeth now, she needed to end this call. “Neither of them asked for this, and I think the _least_ you owe her is _closure!”_ Shit.

Beckman and Graham frowned but took her outburst mostly in stride. “Your tone is uncalled for, Agent Walker, but we will take it under advisement. You are to hold in Burbank until further notice.”

They disconnected and the screen went black. Sarah Walker stood for a moment, chaos and searing pain tearing through her in a way that she could not manage. Her arms trembled as her hands gripped the edge of the table with ever increasing pressure. A sob escaped her lips and she yanked one of her hands free and slapped it over her mouth. She gave out a muffled cry as the image on the screen came back to her, Chuck’s lifeless eyes, his blood pooling on the ground beneath him. Her legs gave out and she collapsed, one hand still holding the table. She let go and wrapped her arm around her middle, rocking slightly as the tears won out. The pressure was too much, the need for release too great and Sarah gave into her tears, curling into herself on Casey’s hardwood floor.

~

He finished absently fluffing the pillows on the sofa and turned to bring the food out from the kitchen. He wanted to have everything set up perfectly when Sarah arrived. _Actually, she should have been here by now._  He started to look at his watch as he turned but something caught his attention at the corner of his vision. He looked up to find Casey pointing a silenced pistol at him. Chuck’s gaze snapped from the gun to Casey's eyes and back again as fear shot through him. He tried to take a step backward but bumped into the couch.

"Don't," Casey said.

"Casey, what, what are you doing? What the hell is going on?" His former partner made no verbal response and the fear that was already thrumming inside him ignited in white hot panic. He held up his hands as realization formed in an instant. His mind filled with understanding. Of course, they couldn't just let him _go_ , the information was still in his head. Someone could capture him, try to get at the Intersect, and now that they had another version, he was no longer worth the time or money it took to keep him safe. Did Sarah know? No! No she couldn’t… she wouldn’t… but… Of course she knew, she was one of the smartest people he'd ever known. No wonder she had agreed to go on a date with him. Give the nerd a happy send off. And no wonder she was uncharacteristically late tonight.

He could run, but he wouldn't get far and he'd only end up endangering other people. He knew Casey would catch him before he even made it out of the complex. Still his legs itched to try, everything inside of him screaming – _runrunrunrun!_  But where would he even go? He didn’t know how to hide from the government. He tamped down on the urge and a strange resolve settled in its place.

His hands shook a little as he raised them and locked eyes with Casey. "Just,” the word faltered slightly, “Just do me one favor, Casey?" Chuck said, ashamed that he couldn't keep the fear out of his voice. "Don't leave me here for Ellie to find. And..." he swallowed, "Make sure she knows that I’m – that I’m dead. I don't want to disappear on her like our parents. She's strong, she's so strong, but I don't think she could handle that."

Casey didn't give him a response but Chuck let it go. Casey was honorable. He’d do this. Chuck closed his eyes and waited.

“Damn it.”

Chuck flinched at the suddenly growled expletive and then risked cracking open one eye. Casey had let his gun drop and was giving him a dark glare. Chuck blinked open his eyes.

“Damn it, Bartowski, is there anything you aren’t capable of screwing up?”

“I’m – what? I don’t,” he was suddenly shaking all over and he sat back on the sofa. “Casey please…”

“Shut up, nimrod,” Casey ground out as he tucked the pistol into his pants. “Get up and let’s go.” Casey grabbed Chuck by the arm and marched him out the front door. Chuck winced in pain at the man’s grip but said nothing.

He let Casey drag him around to the parking area without resisting, biting back all the questions and accusations that rose to mind, but when the Crown Vic came into view his mouth finally won.

“Casey, if you – if you don’t’ mind I’d really rather you just got this over with,” Chuck chattered, “I’m operating on a strange and sudden sense of bravado that is entirely foreign to me and I’m pretty sure that it isn’t going to hold out and I really don’t want to die crying like a girl. That would be… I’m not the most macho of guys as you know and I think that –“

“ _Shut up_ , Bartowski,” Casey said, placing a hand on Chuck’s head and shoving him down into the passenger seat of his car. Chuck literally had to clamp his teeth together to keep himself from continuing. He waited for Casey to slide into the driver’s seat before he fastened his seatbelt on automatically. He didn’t know why he still wasn’t trying to run. Casey started the ignition and then turned to Chuck, his face grim, which was normal - only, there was something else there Chuck couldn’t put his finger on. “Everything will go a lot smoother if you just keep your mouth shut, Chuck. What I’m about to do here it nothing less than treason, so the less I hear from you, the better.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean?”

Casey just growled low in his throat and eased the Vic into reverse like a man caressing the lady he loved, and they pulled quickly out onto the street.

They were on the freeway when Casey picked up his phone and dialed a number he obviously knew by heart. Chuck could just hear the line ringing on the other end before it picked up and a deep voice answered.

“Miguel,” Casey said, “yeah, it’s Wayne. You too. Listen, I need a package. Juliet. Yeah that’s right. Male, 6’ 3 or 4 – I know,” here he gave an annoyed, side long glance at Chuck. “Difficult but –” he growled, “I’ll make it worth your while.” There was a long moment where the person on the end of the line was speaking and then Casey shook his head. “You don’t want to be near this mess, compadre. Just meet me at the Holy Water." He ended the call and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

“What was that?” Chuck asked, unable to reign in his curiosity even in the dire situation.

“Let me worry about that, you worry about keeping your mouth shut so I don’t change my mind.”

Chuck swallowed and looked out at the road disappearing under the front end of the Crown Victoria before turning back. “Change your mind about what exactly?”

Casey gave Chuck only a cursory glance and sighed. “Keeping you alive.”

~

Sarah waited silently in the shadows. There was no trace of tears on her cheeks and her visage was free of any hint of emotion. Her face was a mask and she was merely an instrument. The pistol in her hand sat ready as she waited for Casey to return.

She heard the sounds of Ellie and Devon returning from their dinner out, Devon groaning that he was too full to move. Ellie entered the apartment first and Sarah could see Chuck’s sister, in her mind’s eye, pause in confusion as she took in the gutted candles and the untouched food. The sound of Ellie’s voice calling Chuck’s name drifted through the open windows and pinged at the wall she had erected inside and she hardened even further against it, clinging to the anger she’d used to fire it.

“I don’t understand –” Ellie’s voice was cut off, along with Devon’s reassuring tones, as the front door to the apartment was finally closed. Sarah ignored the relief she felt at no longer needing to hear them.  She leaned back against the wall and continued to wait.

She allowed herself to doze lightly, the sleep of a solider, still completely aware of her surroundings. There were no dreams, no fantasies in that sleep and just enough rest. When weak, early morning rays of sun began to filter in through the utilitarian curtains, Sarah resigned herself to the fact that John Casey wasn’t coming back to this place, but it didn’t matter. She’d find him and when she did she’d kill him.

~

Sarah all but slammed the door to her hotel room as she hurried inside. She yanked her still mostly packed suitcase from the armoire and tossed it onto the bed before yanking the zipper and tossing open the top. She moved with efficient grace as she darted around the room, gathering what little things she had neglected to return to her case after use. She had grown far too comfortable and she was paying for it now. Every moment she spent here was another moment further away for Casey.

There was very little in the drawers of her dresser but at the top of it she paused, her gaze flicking over the photograph she had there. She grabbed it up quickly, along with the small, metal alarm clock and shoved them both in the case. She went back for the small, mahogany box that sat close to the mirror but stopped, running the tip of her finger over the lid.

The phone rang, pulling her from the moment, and she yanked out her phone. Some small (stupid) part of her was hoping she would see his face on the screen. But, it was the wrong Bartowski. Ellie’s smiling visage greeted her and she quickly tossed the phone on the bed next to the suitcase and turned back to what she was doing. She scooped up the mahogany box, clasping it to her chest and then froze when she saw herself in the mirror. 

Unbidden, Chuck’s voice came to mind, pleading - hopeless and heartfelt - and the pain she’d compressed into a small knot in the center of her chest blew open and outward. Searing, white hot, it seemed to fill every part of her, right down to her fingertips.  Her whole body trembled and she dropped the box, its contents spilling across the carpet.

 _“I need you to talk to Ellie,”_ she heard Chuck’s voice say. _“Look, if I’m supposed to be dead just say something that will make it okay … You can do that right? Of course you can, you're Sarah, you can do anything.”_

She dropped to her knees, her hands hovering over the items that littered her carpet. She couldn’t do this now. She had to pull it together. No falling apart. She sniffed as she lifted the necklace made from gum wrappers. She let it rest in her hand before placing it reverently back in the box. A small, ugly doll built from spare bits of wire and colorful connectors, a note written to her in his hand, the fortune from a fortune cookie - a little pile of forbidden mementos. She should throw them away, along with the photos and anything else that could ever connect her to him but instead she put each piece back and slammed the lid closed on the box before standing determinedly to shove it into her suitcase.

The phone rang again and Sarah took a deep breath, set herself and picked it up, swiping her finger across the screen to accept. “Hey, Ellie.”

~

Chuck had fallen asleep, though his dreams were haunted by blood and the dead bodies of strangers; he’d still managed to get some rest leaning against the passenger side door of the Crown Vic. He had, at one point, offered to drive so Casey could rest but that had, of course, been met with a grunt of disgust. Now he dozed as the large Ford made its way down the lonely and deserted highway. The feel of the car slowing down and the crunch of gravel under the tires roused him and he sat up quickly, worry twisting in his gut. “Relax Bartowski, this is just the place we ditch the car.”

“Ditch the car, but Casey, it’s your car. You love this car. You…” the glare the larger man was sending him made the words dry up and Chuck just looked back blinking for a moment.

“Let’s go, we’ve got a bit of walking to do from here.” Casey opened the trunk and pulled out a heavy duffel, slinging it over his shoulder before he pulled the pin on what looked like a grenade and tossed it inside.

Chuck’s eyes widened and he pointed at the Crown Victoria. “Was that? Did you just? Are you-” he was cut off as Casey grabbed him forcefully by the shoulder and spun him around, dragging him away as, with an oddly quiet ‘vwoomp’ of sound, the trunk of the car went up in flames. The heat of it was instant and Chuck couldn’t help but look back as those flames took over the interior.

“That’s the second car you own me, Chuck,” Casey said, but the tone of his voice didn’t quite match his words. 

“Just add it to the very long list of other things I owe you,” Chuck murmured as the two men continued walking into the darkness.

~

The waiting was nearly unbearable. Sarah sat on the Bartowski-Woodcomb sofa, sipping wine and waiting. Like there was still hope of Chuck’s safe return. Like she didn’t already know the outcome of this.

Ellie was trying to stay positive but her demeanor was starting to fray around the edges. It showed in the straightness of her shoulders and the corner of her smile. She kept them all gathered together, plying them with food and wine, popping in a movie when the conversation lagged. And Sarah felt the weight of her guilt every time she looked at the woman.

Devon watched his fiancée like a man watching the count down on an explosive device. Trying to predict the moment when it would all be too much and she’d implode like a nuclear bomb.

Morgan was like a lost puppy, moping around most of the time but jumping to do anything that needed to be done. Gone was his awkward flirting with Ellie. As was her putting him in his place, instead she kept him constantly supplied with snacks and grape soda, as if by keeping Morgan comfortable and happy she could somehow do the same for Chuck.

But there was no comfort to be given to Chuck. He was gone. And Sarah wondered why she was here, pretending there was hope when instead she should be righting that wrong. She had no idea if her bosses would honor her thoughts on the matter of closure. Eventually, the investigation would be called off and then she could go, body or no, but waiting without knowing how long ate at her. They were all going about their lives, Beckman, Graham, _Casey_ , while Chuck’s was over, pleased to be done with him.

Sarah rose from the couch and moved to the window. It had been a week and a half since Chuck’s ‘disappearance’ and Ellie had gathered them all at the apartment as if she were a mother hen and they were her chicks. They only left to work but otherwise gathered here, waiting and waiting and waiting for news that might never come. Sarah clenched her jaw and turned more fully toward the window so no one would see.

Morgan was crashing on the couch and she… she had the horrible privilege of sleeping in Chuck’s bed. At the thought, that compressed ball of pain pulsed but she kept it in check even as her mind wandered back to that first night in his bed, only the second time she’d slept there, surrounded by his things and his scent on the pillows.

She buried herself beneath the soft, worn sheets and told herself it was okay to cry. They thought she was his girlfriend. They expected her to be upset. And she had cried herself to sleep, thankful that the cover she had constructed to protect Chuck now protected her.

The following morning Ellie had suggested she swap with Morgan, maybe it would be easier to sleep on the sofa, but Sarah had declined. She deserved to suffer what she suffered. And Chuck’s scent, his odd collection of things… these were all that remained of him. Soon his unique smell, woodsy and warm with a touch a vanilla, would fade from the planet and she selfishly wanted to take in what was left.

She almost laughed at herself. She really was coming apart. Sarah Walker, implacable spy. She had been good at her job. She’d believed in it. She had used the skills she had learned growing up, skills she had remarkable talent for, for good, to help people and her country, to keep them safe. When she had watched Chuck sitting on that beach in the light of a burgeoning sunrise, she had never been more sure, never been more certain, that keeping him safe was the right thing to do. Not just his body, or the computer in his brain, but _him_ , the essence of who he was, because who he was, was exactly what the world needed more of. Goodness and sincerity, his strong sense of right, the love he had inside him, unfettered and given so freely… gone forever. Gone for what?

She knew what they’d tell her if she confronted them, that the welfare of the entire nation was worth sacrificing one individual, and once upon a time she had believed that too, but where did it end? The entire nation was made up of individuals and if at any point one of them could lose their brother, their best friend, their _life_ , at the hands of their own government, then what the hell were they protecting anyway?

Why she had ever thought she could bring him through this thing intact, unscathed and unchanged… she was such a –

The sound of breaking glass and the bite of the shards cutting into her skin pulled her from her thoughts and she stared down at her hand in stunned silence as blood pooled with the wine in her palm and dripped out from between her fingers. How had she lost this much control? As she let the pieces of her wine goblet fall, she heard Devon call out her name, and then he was there at her side and she looked at him with wide, confused eyes.

“Ooh, that looks bad,” he said, taking her hand in his, blindly swiping a napkin from the table and pressing it into her palm.

“I’ll get the first aid kit!” Ellie called as she hurried past the kitchen and down the hall.

Devon peeked at her hand again and turned in the direction his fiancée had gone. “Better bring the suture kit too, Babe!”

“Watch your feet, Captain,” Morgan said, as he hurried into the kitchen where he fetched a pile of cloth from Ellie’s rag bag under the sink. Sarah watched as he knelt to clean up the glass, wine and blood that littered the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what happened…”

“It’s alright,” Devon replied, giving her that calm, reassuring smile she was sure he used on all his patients. He was very good at it. “We’re all feeling the stress.”

She started to pull her hand away. “I’m fine, I’ll just put pressure on it.”

“No, the one on your palm definitely needs stitches. Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at this. You’ll hardly feel it and there will barely be a scar.”

_Maybe she wanted the scar._

Morgan was tossing away the used, glass ridden rags, and Ellie was laying out the suture kit for Devon when the doorbell rang. They all froze, their eyes darting from one to the other before Ellie straightened and rubbed her hands on her jean clad thighs. Sarah held her breath. This was it. She couldn’t say how she knew, only that she did - beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“I better get that,” Ellie said, straightening.

“I’ll get it, Babe,” Devon returned.

Ellie put her hand on his shoulder. “No, you take care of Sarah. I’ll get it.”

Taking a deep breath, Devon dragged his gaze away from Ellie as she moved across the room and returned his focus to Sarah’s hand. Sarah, for her part, focused on his lowered head as she heard Ellie open the door.

“Hello, Detective Reyes,” Ellie began, her voice clear and strong. Only those that knew her best, or those trained to hear such things, would discern the tremor beneath. “What is it? Oh, my gosh, that’s Chuck’s wallet. Did you find him? Where is he?” She laid a hand on the detective’s shoulder as if to push past him but he stopped her, gently taking her wrist.

“I’m sorry, Miss Bartowski. I’m afraid your brother is dead.”

“What? No. _No_ , that’s not right. You’ve made a mistake, okay? My brother is not dead!” Ellie argued, her voice rising with each statement until she was shouting. Devon pressed a large gauze pad into Sarah’s palm and closed her fingers over it before rising quickly to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Ellie,” the detective said, his dark eyes looking into hers with all sincerity. “It’s him. We’re sure.”

Devon didn’t reach Ellie before she collapsed to her knees on the floor, but he was there a second later, wrapping her up in his arms and pulling her into his chest, despite the way she fought against him.

“He can’t be dead! He’s my baby brother! I’m supposed to take care of him!”

Sarah squeezed the gauze into her palm harder, trying to control the onslaught of emotions, using the pain to center her. She jumped slightly as she felt Morgan take hold of her free hand, linking his fingers with hers. Her gaze snapped to his face but he wasn’t looking at her; he was watching the group at the door, openly crying, tears dripping from his beard onto his shirt.

They listened together as the Detective explained how they had found Chuck’s body in a wrecked car off the 247. The room was silent as he went through the basic details, told them no foul play was suspected and then reiterated his apologies.

As the door closed behind the departing police, Morgan pulled Sarah over to the couple crouched on the floor, throwing himself into the hug Devon offered. Sarah stared at them, feeling so lost, forgetting who she was and why she was really there, but still feeling she didn’t belong. Then Ellie looked up at her, her face streaked with tears and her red rimmed eyes puffy from crying. She reached out her arm to Sarah, and the hardened CIA spy collapsed into her embrace.

There on the floor of that apartment in Echo Park, Sarah let herself mourn in the embrace of the people she had harmed. She cried – anger and hate and loss, loss so deep she hadn’t realized the weight of it was crushing her.

This is what Chuck Bartowski had done to her. He’d broken down her walls and crawled inside, making himself a home there, in a place she hadn’t let people live for a very long time, and now that he was gone she wasn’t sure she could mend the damage he had done.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

~

The roadside diner was a bit run down but clean, giving it a well-used, well-loved look that added to the ambiance. The breakfast rush had ended and the lunch rush had not yet started, but even in the lull several people were gathered at the counter and scattered amongst the booths, digging into plates piled high with eggs and bacon, hash browns or pancakes. Casey gave the place a sweep, thorough despite its casual appearance, as he stepped through the doors, a bell ringing over his head.

In the booth farthest back, in the corner, sat a woman picking at her food as she perused the morning paper. She was dark haired, beautiful and approaching six feet in height if she were standing, but her resemblance to a super model ended there. Where they were thin and waifish, she was broad and muscular, but it didn’t take away from her femininity. It only altered it.

She didn’t look up when Casey approached the table but continued to pick at her hash browns, plucking off only the most browned and crisp parts. Casey settled into the opposite seat and a waitress was there almost immediately. He ordered a coffee and then leaned back to wait. Only after his coffee had arrive did the woman fold her paper, push her plate away and look up at him as she rested her arms on the table.

“I was pretty sure I’d never see you again, John,” she said quietly, her mouth quirking up on one side.

Casey grunted. “You look good, Leah,” he said, bringing the coffee to his lips for a taste. His face took on a look of appreciation before setting it back down.

“And you kind of look like crap. What do you want?”

“Good coffee.”

“John…”

He made a low, soft growl in the back of his throat, his gaze shifting to the window and then back to her face. His look was intent, softened with emotion she had so rarely seen there before. “I need a favor.”

“Need,” she repeated softly. “I thought you spook types didn’t _need_ anything.”

“Mmm.” He took another long sip of coffee, the caffeine boosting his system from the inside. “Learn something new every day,” he said softly and she had a feeling he wasn’t talking about stats and secrets.

“What can the US Marshal service do for you, John Casey?”

“Not the service, Leah. _You_.”

She sat back against the seat and pulled her plate forward again, plucking up a cold piece of bacon. She washed it down with a swallow of orange juice. Once she’d set her glass safely back on the table she looked at him, calmly focused. “What can I do for you, John?”

“I need you to do what you do best,” he said simply. “I need you to hide someone.”

Her eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“I know that, I have everything you need to enter him into Witness Protection legitimately, but I need you on this, Leah. No one can find him.”

“Why can’t you take this through legitimate channels, Casey? He better not be some ass hat criminal you’re trying to protect for information.”

Casey almost laughed. “Pretty much the complete opposite of that, actually.”

“What do you mean? Who are we hiding him from?”

The ‘we’ was a good sign. Casey sighed, his eyes darkening as he looked into hers. He answered her with just one word. “Us.”

 

THE END ~~  
~~


End file.
